Only the Owl Saw it All
by Levade
Summary: You never know what you'll see out in the woods, including Rangers, Elves and one lost child. Features Aragorn, Legolas and a very young Faramir. Considered AU by author.


Only the Owl Saw it All

By Levade

_Short note: this is AU. The ages of the characters are off, so to be safe and satisfy canon requirements that are pretty darn clear, it's AU. Written for G-fic Group Yule Exhchange. Another of those oh-so-silly fics._

* * *

The owl peered curiously at the strange creature staggering about its  
woodland territory, golden eyes large in the dark of the night. Wind  
ruffled the grey feathers, and it hooted softly, offering a bit of  
encouragement for the furless, featherless being that shivered in the  
cold. Instead the creature gave a start and looked around wildly  
before running forward. Branches, whipped up by the wind into a  
frenzy of movement caught at the young creature, snaring its hair and  
clothing and it cried out before striking out to fend off its  
attacker.

"Hoooo," soothed the owl. _It is but the wind, featherless  
youngling_. No elf then, for the creature showed no understanding of  
owl-speak, struggling until it freed itself of the branches to  
stagger off, deeper into the forest.

Ruffling its feathers, the owl blinked. No others but the Elves came  
this far into the forest. What could the creature be then? A  
rustling in the pine needles snared the owl's attention and it  
swiveled its head, watching. Waiting. A very foolish mouse ran out  
from under the raised root of a gnarled old pine, whiskers quivering  
as it tested the night air. Father Mouse had told it not to go out  
on a windy night such as this for other creatures used the wind to  
cover their own noises, but the youngster had scoffed and twitched  
his very fine tail before darting outside to take a look.

He smelled a toadstool nearby, probably a very delicious one and his  
whiskers quivered in excitement. Wouldn't Father Mouse be impressed  
with him bringing that home! Branches danced in the wind, the pines  
groaned as they swayed, and the wind whispered as it wound through  
the branches, telling of storms coming with the promise of rain.  
Nothing of danger though, and so the young mouse darted forward.

Owl dropped from the branches above, silent as it floated over the  
branches, closer and closer to the ground, and swooped in to grasp  
the foolish young mouse in its talons. Its younglings would feed  
well tonight!

* * *

"That river is freezing!"

"Come, Estel. It's not even winter yet!"

Glaring at his companion who appeared as unruffled and composed as  
ever, the young man scrubbed at his hair with what had been a dry  
shirt. Nothing in his very heavy, soaked pack was dry now. "You  
just had to go that way, didn't you?" He grimaced and mocked in a  
lilting voice, "It's easier, Estel. Trust me, Estel."

"It is!"

The protestation was lost largely because the blasted elf was  
grinning, blue eyes dancing with amusement. "You have a wretched  
sense of humor, son of Thranduil."

"Ai, Estel." Legolas reached out to clasp a sodden  
shoulder. "Peace. Come, I know of a good spot not far from here we  
can make camp and I shall build a fire. Once you are warm your sense  
of humor might return."

"You realize our food was lost to the river."

"Some creature will be appreciative." The blond elf, dry as a bone,  
nary a hair out of place, shrugged. "We came out here to hunt."

"Not in the middle of the night!"

Eyes widening, Legolas tried and failed to curb a grin and danced  
back as his companion growled and made a grab for him. "Now, Estel…."

"Blast you, Legolas, if I am wet then you shall be as well!" The  
young man knew better. He'd been raised amongst the elves, sheltered  
in a haven known as Rivendell. Raised as one of them, he knew very  
well just how quick and light of foot the lithe beings were.

Dancing back, Legolas held up his hands, "Estel, I would not—"

The warning was lost in a flurry of curses that would have gotten the  
young man's behind tanned had his elders heard them. Human eyes,  
never as sharp as the Firstborn, were at a double disadvantage in the  
dark and it was that combination that led to Estel's downfall –  
literally.

"Estel!" Legolas reached out to grab his friend, ducking under  
windmilling arms, only to find his hands full of the tunic the young  
man had been using to dry his hair. Eyes wide, the elf watched his  
human companion tumble back down the steep river bank straight into  
the shallows of the river. A splash and more cursing told him all he  
needed to know. Holding back his laughter as his truly sodden friend  
rose from the river, dripping, Legolas held out the semi-dry  
tunic. "I saved your shirt for you!"

Legolas gave a shout of laughter as Estel surged up the riverbank,  
and whirled to run. "Here, you'll need it!"

"Legolas!" Reaching the top of the bank, Estel staggered, caught his  
balance and stumbled again as his own tunic flew into his face. He  
yanked it away and glared upwards. Sure enough, his nimble friend  
had taken to the trees where he stood on a branch as nonchalantly as  
if on one of the walkways of Rivendell. A deep breath and the young  
man shot one last glare at his friend. Elves. You just couldn't win  
sometimes. "Ai…just show me this supposed campsite, if you will."

A bow and the elf leaped down to land lightly, though well-away from  
the human. "This way. A fire will warm you soon enough, my friend!"

Hefting his cold, wet pack on his back, Estel rolled his eyes as the  
elf began to sing to the trees, regardless that all but the pines  
were dormant and ready for winter. At least it wasn't snowing.  
Watching his friend walk atop the snow while he slogged through would  
have been utterly the last straw. Ah well, it wouldn't be the first  
night he'd spent cold and hungry, nor probably the last, and it could  
have been worse.

The twin sons of Elrond might have joined them, and then…. Then  
Estel never would hear the end of this hunting trip.

* * *

He told himself stories to try and forget how cold he was. Huddling  
against a tree, cloak wrapped tightly around his body, he shivered  
and laughed. "A…and then B..Boromir said, 'Ah, but you should have  
seen the horse that came in second!'"

Stars, but he wished his brother was with him! Why had he not  
listened? Of course; he had wanted to prove to Boromir that he  
wasn't the skinny, scrawny runt. Not that his brother said such  
things, but Faramir heard it plenty of times from others. His own  
father compared the brothers at every chance, and never was it  
favorable for Faramir.

But he adored his brother. Faramir looked up to him and tried to do  
anything he could to get a smile, and warm the sometimes cool grey  
eyes. It wasn't really all that hard. His brother was far better at  
the things that made a man a good soldier: riding, fighting,  
commanding. Boromir had a natural air of command and his men would  
do anything for him. He was not cruel, but he did expect a great  
deal of them.

And Faramir had doubtless just let him in for the biggest  
disappointment of his life. Getting lost on a hunting trip! How  
pathetic was that? This after his father had finally agreed, albeit  
reluctantly, to let him accompany Boromir.

Father would never let him go anywhere ever again.

It was enough that he almost let the wind, the cold of the night and  
the loneliness of the surroundings take him. Why not? Who would  
miss him?

Boromir. Yes, his brother would mourn.

Gandalf? Maybe. The Wizard did consider Faramir a student of  
considerable talent.

Lothíriel and her brothers. His Uncle Imrahil.

Not his father. No, his father would be free of an unwanted, useless  
burden.

Sighing, Faramir pushed himself to his feet and grit his teeth. He  
wouldn't give up! He'd prove his father wrong, show him that he was  
just as good as… Well, maybe not that good, but he would show him.

He would show him that he was more than just a weak child who loved  
learning. He would show Denethor that he was a fighter.

* * *

"It is a bit small for you." Legolas ignored the dirty look shot his  
direction and continued cleaning the brace of rabbits he had flushed  
out of their burrow. "But it is dry."

Seated in front of a ring of rocks, a pit with a fire in the middle,  
Estel held his hands out to warm them and winced as the tunic pulled  
at his shoulders. He was not yet fully-grown and already his  
shoulders had more width to them than the elf's. "Thank you."

"You are welcome, Estel." Legolas murmured a thanks to the woods for  
the gift of the rabbits and set up a spit over the fire. Sitting  
back on his haunches, he smiled at his friend. "The smoke seeks to  
favor you."

Waving away the grey cloud, the young man blinked as the smoke stung  
his eyes. "Lucky me," he replied with a wry smile.

Turning the spit carefully, Legolas looked up. "Halbarad will be  
happy to see you recovered."

"Aye." His cousin had fared only a bit better when the bridge had  
collapsed in the flood, and come away with a broken  
collarbone. "Adar…Elrond said I would be clear to ride on patrols  
again by Yule." Estel was yet coming to grips with his true  
heritage: Aragorn, son of Arathorn. He was Chieftan of the Dúnedain  
and heir of Isildur, though up until his eighteenth birthday he had  
been Estel, foster son of Elrond Eärendilion. It was a heavy weight  
to bear; one Elrond had sought to help him with for as long as  
possible.

He was a hunted man and would be all of his life.

Unless he … No, he would not think of that. Not now. Not yet.

"Peace, Estel."

The man looked up as a light hand fell upon his shoulder and squeezed  
gently. "Have not I been a friend to you since you were more of a  
child than you are now?"

A joke between them. To an Elf, a man of Estel's age was not even  
fully-grown. Not yet an adult. "You have, Legolas." He reached out  
to grip the elf's shoulder. "Though at times, like in the river  
today, I question why I trust you so much."

Sitting back with a grin, Legolas shook his head. "So that you will  
have someone to care for you in your dottering age?"

Estel's reply froze on his lips as the elf rose, drew his dagger and  
pivoted to face away from the fire in one graceful, smooth move.  
Legolas' hearing was far sharper than his own and with the wind  
making the trees shift and groan, the man wasn't sure what his friend  
could have heard.

Legolas stepped soundlessly forward and gestured to the side. Estel  
nodded and crept off, his own dagger in his hand. The woods were  
usually safe, Glorfindel sent patrols out to be certain, and checked  
the Redhorn Pass himself, without fail. The attack on Celebrían  
weighed heavily upon the Captain of Rivendell's guard, even years  
later. Orcs still roamed these mountains, and sometimes, though far  
more rare, wolves.

A cry somewhere in the darkness ahead told Estel this was no Orc or  
beast and he ran forward. "Legolas, over here!" It was a young boy,  
maybe nine years old, and he wasn't moving. Feeling carefully along  
the boy's arms and legs, Estel grunted as the elf knelt next to  
him. "His ankle is caught in that root. Broken, or badly twisted I  
suspect."

The elf bent closer, curious as to what a young boy was doing so far  
from any settlement Legolas knew of. "Where could he have come from?"

"A band of hunters, trappers, or people travelling over the pass  
before the snows block the way." Freeing the boy's ankle, Estel  
lifted him carefully and rose. "Let's get him back and get him  
warm. He's shivering."

Legolas followed, glancing around to see if there were any others  
with the boy. It seemed impossible to him that such a young human  
could be out so far on his own. Sheathing his dagger, he went to the  
pile of wood he had collected and put more on the fire, checking the  
rabbit as well.

"Sprained." Estel had the boy's boot off and looked grim as he  
gently probed the bones. "Though not as badly as it could have  
been." He rose and walked towards the river.

"Do not fall in again, Estel," Legolas called, unable to resist. "I  
am running out of dry clothing!" The boy stirred and he walked over  
to kneel next to him. "Shhh…easy, young one. You are safe."

A groan and the boy opened grey eyes to blink upwards. He stared  
before reaching up to rub his eyes. "Am I dead?"

"No." Legolas smiled but put a hand on the boy's shoulder to keep  
him from moving. "You need to be still. Your ankle was injured in a  
fall."

Faramir knew he shouldn't stare, it was rude, but never had he seen  
so fair a being. "You're an Elf."

Hand to his heart, Legolas inclined his head. "I am Legolas."

"I…" He might as well be honest. Gandalf said elves could tell if  
you were lying. "My name is Faramir."

"Well met, Faramir. And this is my scruffy companion, Estel."

An older human male walked up and knelt, his brow furrowed. He held  
several thin branches in his hands. "Awake, I see, and already the  
elf is filling your ears with nonsense."

Offering a tentative smile, he wasn't sure what to think of these  
two, Faramir noted the dark hair and grey eyes of the man. If this  
wasn't one of the famed Rangers of the North he would …eat one of  
those sticks! "Yes, milord. I mean, no, milord, he..he isn't –"

Legolas laughed merrily and returned to the fire to turn the  
rabbit. "His name is Estel and he's very good at healing. You're  
quite fortunate we found you. Wolves roam these forests."

"Indeed." Looking a bit grim, Estel softened his expression as he  
saw the boy stare out at the night with an alarmed look. "Be easy,  
young one. Nothing will harm you while we're here." He bent and  
measured the branches along the boy's leg. "What is your name?"

"Faramir." He noticed the man pause and gulped as the intent grey  
gaze held his.

"Son of Denethor?"

"Y-yes."

"What are you doing so far from home, Faramir?" Estel motioned to  
the elf. "Legolas, if you would help? Faramir, I am going to have  
to bind this ankle and it will likely hurt."

Eyes widening as the elf came to sit behind him and took his  
shoulders in a firm grip, Faramir licked his lips. "I…I was with a  
hunting party with my brother. We became separated." He whimpered  
as the man tied the first piece of rag around the ankle, binding the  
splints in place. "I saw a buck and wanted to prove to Boromir that  
I could be just as brave but then I…I don't know. I thought I knew  
which way I had gone, chasing the deer, but everything looked so much  
alike and when I stopped running it was getting dark." He bit his  
lip hard to keep from crying out as Estel tied the rest of the strips  
in place.

"He'll be looking for you."

"We can go looking for him in the morning," Legolas offered. "A  
group of humans should not be hard to find."

Ignoring the elf's grin, Estel made certain the bindings weren't too  
tight, and that Faramir could feel his toes before he sat  
back. "Rest easy, Faramir. We'll care for you until we find your  
brother."

"Thank you."

It was clear to the man the boy was in pain and he turned to rummage  
through his wet pack. Some things, the more precious of his  
belongings, he carried wrapped in oilskin, to protect them. "Let's  
get some water and mix a bit of this in. It will ease the pain."

A short time later, Faramir sat propped against a pack, eyes half-  
closed. Whatever the man had given him it was making him sleepy.  
The pain in his ankle was but a dull ache now. He blinked as the elf  
knelt and held out a large leaf with meat on it. "Eat and regain  
your strength, youngling. It's rabbit."

He wasn't hungry but Faramir obediently took it and found it far  
better than he expected. "Lord Legolas…are your people …do they live  
here?"

"No." Legolas ate neatly, ignoring Estel who was gnawing on a bone  
to get to the last tasty bits. "My home is to the east of the Misty  
Mountains, in the forests of Mirkwood."

"Oh."

Estel smiled to himself. The boy was clearly fascinated by his elven  
friend.

"Do the Rangers ride so far as this?"

"No." He waved a rabbit bone around, indicating the woods. "These  
lands are patrolled by Lord Elrond's guards." Leaving off just where  
the Rangers roamed. It would be better for the boy if he didn't  
know. The less for him to tell his father who doubtless was curious  
about his neighbors to the north.

"Oh." Faramir looked about owlishly as if expecting more elves to  
magically appear from the woods. The medication was making him  
sleepy as was the warmth of the fire. He was safe and warm. He  
could rest. Nothing would get him tonight. "Do you ….think…."  
Head slumping to one side, Faramir was asleep, mid-sentence.

Estel scooted over and eased the boy down, folding Legolas' cloak for  
a pillow. Gently brushing back the boy's black hair, he felt his  
forehead. "No fever, thankfully. He's a strong lad."

"You know his father."

He could barely hear the elf's soft question over the whoosh of the  
wind through the tree tops. "Yes." Estel looked up, wry smile  
curling his lips. "Denethor is the Steward of Gondor."

"Ah…" Comprehension lit the bright blue eyes. "I would expect the  
two sons rode with quite a large escort then. They are far from  
home."

"I imagine so." So where were they? Estel sighed. "We will find  
them in the morning."

"Get some rest, Estel. I will keep watch." Legolas stood and  
gathered his bow and quiver before walking to the edge of the camp  
where the light did not affect his vision. He walked around the  
camp, humming to himself, sharp hearing having no problems picking up  
even something so soft as an owl flying silently overhead.

Estel rolled himself into his cloak and smiled as his Elven friend  
began to softly sing a song of praise to the Star-kindler. Sleep  
crept up on him and pulled him down into its soft depths before the  
song had even reached the second stanza.

* * *

In the end it had been easy to find the company of Men. They had  
followed Faramir's tracks as soon as it was daylilght and the two  
groups met around mid-day.

Legolas stood proud and unyielding, pale hair shining in the grey  
light of day, gathering more than a few curious looks as Estel  
carried Faramir forward.

"Faramir!" A man, much younger than Estel, jumped off his horse and  
ran forward. "What happened? Is he –"

"I am fine, brother!" Embarrassed by all the attention, Faramir was  
quick to assure his brother. "I got lost chasing a buck and these  
two found me and helped me."

Grey eyes met grey eyes as Boromir stared hard at Estel, almost as if  
seeking for something in the features that were so very familiar. So  
very Gondorian. "Did they? Then they have my thanks."

Almost smiling at the clear tone of command in the young man's voice,  
Estel handed the boy over to his brother and held a hand to his heart  
as he bowed his head. "He had fallen not far from our camp. My  
companion heard his cry and we brought him to our camp for the night."

"My thanks…"

"Estel."

Legolas inclined his head as the man's gaze fell on him, not  
speaking. Let them think what they would; it mattered little to him,  
Men's opinions. Though he did find it amusing that the boy's brother  
seemed to find Estel something of a threat. Ai…Men. They lived so  
short a time and lost so much of what they knew in the end.

"Thank you both." Faramir offered a shy smile. "Boromir, could we  
not offer them a bit of hospitality for what they have done?"

Seeming taken aback at his brother pointing out his rude manners,  
Boromir nodded. "Yes, of course. Please, be welcome."

"My thanks, but we must be on our way." Estel inclined his  
head. "Safe journey to you, Faramir. Lord Boromir."

"And you, both of you!" The boy seemed reluctant to see them go but  
smiled when Legolas put his hand to his heart and bowed before  
turning.

"So you had an adventure, little brother." Boromir frowned at the  
splint. "We must get you home and have father's healer look at your  
ankle."

"I am sorry, Boromir." Faramir bowed his head, staring at his dirty,  
ripped tunic. "I…I didn't mean to get lost or ruin your trip."

"You have not ruined it, little one." Handing his brother to the man  
holding his horse, Boromir mounted then reached to take his brother  
up before him. "Come, ride with me and rest easy. I am just  
relieved we found you."

"Father will strap me when…" The strong arms tightened around him  
and Faramir leaned back against his brother's chest. What must it be  
like to be the favoured son? He would never know, but at least his  
brother loved him.

"I will deal with father, Faramir. Do not worry."

It was useless to argue and so Faramir nodded. "I met an elf,  
Boromir! He was very nice." His brother's chuckle rumbled from his  
chest.

Listening to his little brother chatter away, Boromir thought it had  
to be the sweetest music he'd heard all day.

* * *

"Do you think he recognized you?"

"As a Ranger? Perhaps."

"Ai, you Men."

"What does that mean?" Estel recognized the distraction for what it  
was. "I could easily say just as much for Elves."

"What? That we bathe and do not wipe our food on our clothing?"

A snort; Elves were known for fastidious natures. "You, my  
princeling, are by far the worst of the lot. You even carry a comb!"

"Yes, I can see how that would be considered offensive by you, Estel."

"I still say I can take down a stag before you even pull your bow."

"Now I know that you are delirious, Estel. Did you hit your head  
when you fell in the river?"

And far above in the trees, an owl watched with bright golden eyes,  
hoo-hoo'ing in amusement for the ways of humans and elves.

* * *

_A/N: my thanks to Holly for reading and encouraging me after so long. Peace, Levade _

* * *


End file.
